


Ridiculosity

by HazelH



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, fluff and nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-30 22:47:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6445321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HazelH/pseuds/HazelH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fourth wall comes down with a crash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ridiculosity

**Author's Note:**

> This came to me as I was lying awake in bed one night. I think we can safely blame sleep deprivation.

Jack stood at his usual station by the fireplace, leaning on the mantle and holding a tumbler of whiskey.  He swirled the amber-colored liquor absently and stood there regarding Phryne.  She was resplendent in all red.  The color of her lipstick.  The color of his hidden passions, which were legion and untried, and _barely_ held in check.  
  
Phryne smirked at him over the rim of her own whiskey.  She wanted—oh how she wanted—to jump him right then and there, but she held herself back for some reason.  That was very unlike her, she thought, frowning, but there was nothing for it, even though he looked so very handsome, standing there with one of his large, expressive hands on his hip.  So instead she brought up their recent case.  
  
Jack sighed, and joined her in discussing the case.  
  
“...and then I did something _very_ clever,” Phryne said, in response to his query.  
  
“That’s remarkable,” Jack remarked.  
  
Phryne frowned, abruptly ending the conversation.  
  
“What?” said Jack, concerned.  
  
She looked around the room suspiciously, slowly coming to a conclusion.  
  
“Jack,” said Phryne suddenly, “help me break down this wall.”  
  
“What wall— _oh,_ ” he said in sudden understanding, as they both turned to look at me, scowling.  
  
_Uh-oh._  
  
“ _What_ is this?” said Phryne in horror as it sank in.  
  
“‘“That’s remarkable,”  Jack remarked’?  What is this _utter drivel_ you are putting in my mouth?”  
  
“Are you _sure_ you have enough quotes?” said Phryne sarcastically.  “Yeah,” she added in a stage whisper, “I think they got the sarcasm.”  
  
But Jack wasn’t finished.  “This is _pablum,_ this is...”  
  
“ _Tripe,_ ” said Phryne.  
  
“I rather like tripe,” said Jack.  
  
“You’ll eat anything,” said Phryne.  
  
_Fair enough,_ he shrugged.  
  
“Good GOD,” said Jack, “ _what_ are those first two paragraphs?  That’s just... _embarrassing_.”  
  
“Downright _rude,_ if you ask me,” said Phryne.  
  
“And it’s mantel, E-L,” said Jack.  
  
“At least she got the E in ‘tumbler’,” said Phryne.  
  
“Small mercies,” said Jack.  
  
He took a closer look.  
  
“What is THIS?!” he said, eyeing my notes with a critical eye.  Phryne scowled, shaking her head.  
  
“‘Avenues to explore,’” he read.  “‘Possible gunshot wound? Jack or Phryne?  Amnesia?’”  He looked at me, disgusted.  “Is this a _soap opera_?  What, no evil twin?”  
  
Oh my god that’s great!  Wait, let me write that down!  
  
“STOP!” said Jack, “ARE YOU MAD?!”  
  
“Wait,” said Phryne with a gasp, “it’s YOU!”  She jabbed a finger in my direction.  “All this time I thought it was Aunt Prudence, but no, it’s YOU!”  
  
“What?” said Jack, and then it dawned on him.  
  
“‘Dawned on him’, really?” muttered Phryne.  “The man is _hardly_ stupid.”  
  
“WHAT?!?!?” said Jack, both enraged and outraged.  “YOU’RE THE ONE?!?!?”  
  
“Good Lord,” said Phryne rolling her eyes, “even I know a simple interrobang will do.”  
  
“We can’t even manage to KISS,” said Jack, “without some ridiculous twist of fate getting in the way, and now you’re telling me it’s all for some kind of sick _plot point_?!  To string it along?  To heighten tension?  All those old lovers with no backstory suddenly springing up out of the blue, all the times we weren’t talking to each other because of some flimsy misunderstanding, all the missed opportunities, all the interruptions by elderly relatives, that was just so you could get your sick jollies off?!”  
  
“It’s not my fault!” I protested.  “That wasn’t me.  This is _fan fiction_.  You’re waaaay more likely to get laid in fan fi—”  
  
“If this is supposed to be some kind of exquisite agony,” continued Jack, “you’re _dead_ wrong, sister.  This is just _agony_.  Miserable, brutal, sick, _evil_ agony.  What kind of twisted soul _does_ this to someone?”  
  
“ _Yeah,_ ” said Phryne, frowning.  
  
“Someone you’re supposed to _like_ , even. This is— this is— this is just _atrocious_!  Sick, twisted, enraging, perverse, _obscene_ —”  
  
“Actually I rather like the sound of that last part,” said Phryne.  
  
“That’s IT!” growled Jack, as he stormed out of the room.  
  
“Jack!” cried Phryne, “Where are you going?!”  
  
“To get my police revolver, and end this once and for all!”  
  
I hit cloverleaf-W without saving then, in a near-panic.  
  
O_o  That was _close_.


End file.
